The Flow of Time
by What'sLeftOfABizarreChildhood
Summary: Some people see time as a straight line or a river, with only one way it flows. Forward. It would appear that no one told this little fact to a certain Gryffindor. Harry will have to learn the hard way that no matter what you do, some things are meant to
1. Through the looking glass

**Title: **The Flow of Time  
**Author: **What'sLeftOfABizarreChildhood  
**Genre:** Romance/Comedy (With a touch of some good old fashioned angst in the first chapter.)  
**Rating: **Mature (for later chapters)  
**Summary:** Some people see time as a straight line or a river, with only one way it flows. Forward. It would appear that no one told this little fact to a certain Gryffindor. Harry will have to learn the hard way that no matter what you do, some things are meant to be, and will happen.  
**Warnings: **This story will contain a _**SLASH**_ pairing people!!! Which translates into huge amounts of _**GAYNESS**_ on the main character's parts!!! So if you're one of those homophobic closed minded types, leave now!!! That was your only warning. Plus there may be some slight OOC-ness. I'll try to keep them in character as much as possible though. But I must also say that this story starts off in the beginning of sixth year.  
**Disclaimer:** Sadly I do not own any of these characters. I wish I did, though many of you probably don't cause I'd hella turn the series into a bunch romance novels. XD Plus I'd be rich off my arse!  
**A/N: **Special thanks to WilsonIsMyHero for posting the challenge that inspired this! And to Tsurai No Shi my Beta. Now, on to the sad news. Due to rating rules the NC-17 scenes will be posted on another site. See my profile for the link. So anyways this is my first ever (posted) Fan Fiction, so please be nice.  
"Bloody hell, you look awful mate!"  
Harry raised his head to glare angrily at Ron, but only managed to look slightly annoyed before his head fell back onto the table with soft thud.  
Hermione shot Ron a dirty look before sitting down across from Harry at the Gryffindor table. She leaned forward a bit to get a better look at her friend.  
Harry had dark circles under his eyes, his hair was messier than ever and he looked thinner and a bit paler than usual.  
"Harry," she started hesitantly, "What's the matter?"  
"There's nothing wrong 'Mione," Harry sighed, his voice muffled by the table.  
Ron shook his head in disbelief, "C'mon Harry, we're your best friends! We can tell you've got a problem. Now spill!"  
Harry sat up and looked at them for a moment. His eyes were shadowed with something that even Hermione couldn't completely read. They were unfocused as if he wasn't looking at them but at something, somewhere or maybe someone else that only he could see, and the sight of whatever it was that he saw seemed to be causing him an almost unbearable pain.  
Ron fidgeted under Harry's hollow gaze. While Hermione did her best to figure out what was troubling their friend.  
After what seemed like an eternity of this Hermione finally spoke, eyes filled with concern, brow knit with confusion and her voice gentle, "Harry? Harry look at me," she waited for his head to turn and his eyes to focus on her, then continued. "Is it because of what happened at the Ministry? Is that why you're so upset? Are you still mourning Sirius?"  
Harry's eyes, that had been so expressive, suddenly went blank. "I already told you. There's nothing wrong," with this he stood up from his seat, "I'm not all that hungry, I'm gonna go for a walk. I'll see you at lunch."  
Harry left in a hurry, afraid that Hermione would not be brushed off that easily, but neither she nor Ron followed him out of the Great Hall. For that he was grateful. He needed some time to himself, without people prying and asking him all kinds of questions, most of which he wasn't sure he himself had the answer to.  
Yes, he was upset about Sirius.  
His Godfather's death had been a harsh blow. Harry felt as though a huge part of him had died along with Sirius.  
He wasn't sure why though. The death of one person, even a godfather shouldn't affect someone _this _much. Should it?  
He knew people who had lost loved ones, and they hadn't sunk into a depression like this. Harry himself had lost friends and family, but he'd never felt this horrible. He didn't want to eat, sleep or do anything really.  
Harry couldn't think of any reason for it.  
Except maybe…  
'No. Not possible' Harry thought, shaking his head at the thought. Then realizing that he hadn't been paying attention to where he was walking, he looked around.  
"Well that's just bloody brilliant!"  
Harry ground his teeth in frustration. He was lost.  
"Perfect! Just bloody perfect!" Harry yelled at the empty corridor. He glared around at the old, dusty walls and floors as though it was their fault he was lost. _It probably is! _He thought furiously. _This castle is practically alive! It's always moving and changing at random!  
_In his frustration he slammed fist into the wall. Harry pulled his fist back with a hiss of pain, cradling it in his other hand. The skin of the knuckle was scraped away and blood was trickling freely down his hand.  
He stopped for a moment listening, then turned his head at the sound of stones grinding against each other. The stone he had punched in his anger was receding back into the wall. As it went others started to follow. When the stones were done moving they formed an archway, Harry was reminded of the entrance to Diagon Alley.  
Harry peered into the newly revealed room, but the only thing visible was a thick layer of cobwebs reaching from floor to ceiling.  
Harry stepped closer, reached out to touch the ancient webs with the tips of his fingers. Just as they made contact a light gust of air that seemed to emanate form the room washed over Harry. The breeze sent a chill down his spine and raised goose bumps all over his arms. Harry jumped back, startled.  
Harry looked around once more. He couldn't be sure but this part of the castle appeared to be somewhere near the centre, probably on one of the lower levels. He looked back at the open entrance to the mysterious room. It would be impossible for the breeze to be coming from a window.  
He stepped closer again to the entrance he raised his hand and touched the cobwebs again. Nothing happened, so he grabbed hold and ripped them down. The room beyond was dark. Harry moved to go inside, but he stopped. _It could be dangerous! You don't know what's in there! You should get one of the teachers to inspect it. _A little voice from the back of Harry's mind warned. It sounded vaguely like Hermione.  
Shaking his head he set his jaw and stared into the dark unknown of the room.  
"What are you! A courageous Gryffindor or some bed wetting little pissant of a Slytherin?!" He asked as he stepped forward into the dark.  
He raised his wand and lit it with a muttered, "_Lumos.__"  
_Holding his wand high over his head, the light casting eerie shadows over the dusty objects inside the room. It seemed as though no one had been in the place for ages.  
He looked around, examining the old and forgotten items. He picked something that looked like a dirt-encrusted crystal ball up off a table. Harry rubbed some of the grime away with the sleeve of his robe. It wasn't a crystal ball. Harry shuddered as he placed the skull back onto the table.  
He gazed around at the rest of the room. It appeared to be an old workroom.  
_Maybe one of the __F__ounder's_Harry thought excitedly.  
There were tables cluttered with jars, stacks of old, faded and yellowed parchment, cauldrons and instruments. The walls were lined with hundreds upon hundreds of ancient tomes.  
As Harry walked along the bookshelves examining the books, something bright and gleaming caught his attention. He turned toward the back of the room and saw a tall, slim door-shaped object covered in cloth. As Harry moved closer, he saw that what had caught his attention was a small tear in the fabric. Harry leaned forward and peeked through the hole to see another bright gray eye staring back at him.  
Harry reached out his arm and tugged at the covering. It fell away to reveal a full-length mirror.  
Harry stumbled back in surprise.  
There standing in the mirror was not his own reflection, but a handsome young man with jet-black hair that fell becomingly around his elegant face. His lush lips curled into a mischievous smile. And those eyes…  
Like bright vibrant stars.  
"Sirius!" Harry gasped as he stared, awestruck at his godfather. But it wasn't his godfather, not yet. The boy in the mirror looked to be only sixteen or seventeen.  
"Is this where Dumbledore hid the mirror of Erised?" Harry asked the empty room. Harry stood up as tall as he could to get a better look at the top of the mirror, holding up his still lit wand. But there was no writing on the top. "Not the mirror then. But what?"  
The young Sirius shrugged at the question and leaned over to examine the side of the mirror as well.  
Harry snorted at the action. "You going to help me figure this one out are you?" Harry stooped down to take a look at the base.  
There along the bottom were grooves, cut into the metal of the frame. They looked like they might have formed words at on time, but were now worn down to little more than wavy indents.  
Harry gave a heavy sigh as he sat back and looked into the mirror. Sirius sat down too and they stayed like that, just staring at one another. A small smile tugging at the corner of Harry's lips.

"I should probably go now," Harry sighed, standing up and brushing off his robes. Using the light from his wand he checked the time on his watch. "It's already past lunch time, and I've still got to find my way back to a familiar part of the castle."  
Harry had no idea why he was explaining himself to the Sirius reflected in the strange mirror. It wasn't real. But as he thought about leaving he suddenly felt tired again. When he'd been sitting here he hadn't noticed the exhaustion or the hunger he'd felt for the past for so long now. He only felt… content.  
_Strange__…_He thought to himself staring curiously at the boy in the mirror.  
Shrugging he said to the reflected Sirius, "I'm going to leave now. I probably won't be back. I'll most likely never be able to find this place again. So I guess this is goodbye."  
Sirius' expression grew sad. As though he knew what Harry was saying, like he was more than just a bit of magic in a mirror charmed to be a cheap copy of the mirror of Erised.  
It hurt Harry to see that face, Sirius' face, saddened.  
"I do miss you though," Harry whispered softly raising a hand to rest on the surface of the cold, reflective glass. Sirius raised his hand as well, to rest where Harry's was on the glass.  
There was no heat from the other boy's hand. Harry knew there wouldn't be, but for some reason this still sent a pang of sorrow through him.  
As a single tear slid down the side of Harry's face he whispered in a hoarse voice, "I wish we could be together again."  
Suddenly the cool glass beneath his hand became warm and started to pulse. Like a heart beat.  
Sirius' fingers came through the once solid glass to intertwine with Harry's. A huge grin spread across his face.  
Frightened Harry tried vainly to jerk his hand free from the tight grip Sirius had on it. "What the bloody hell are you doing?!" He cried, staring horrified at the grinning boy.  
Sirius began to back away, pulling a frantic Harry along with him. Harry tried desperately to hang on to something. Anything! He clutched at the frame of the mirror, but it was too smooth, and the Sirius in the mirror was too strong. He slipped into the reflected room and suddenly had the sensation of falling through the air. He looked up to see the room on the outside of the mirror falling away out of site, along with the reflection and the reflected Sirius. The edges of his vision started to darken. His other senses were fading as well. He heard someone shouting in the distance, as if from miles away. 'NO!' It sounded so familiar. It was himself. He realized he was yelling and he could barely hear it. The mirror and Sirius were nothing more than a tiny speck of dust in the distance now.  
Then the speck was gone and all was dark and quiet.  
**A/N:** Thanks for reading! Hope you liked the first chapter of 'The Flow of Time.' I know I enjoyed writing it! Not sure when I'll get the next chapter up though. Reviews always help to motivate me though! Nudge Nudge Hint Hint 


	2. Strange oblivion

Everything seemed to be silent.

Yet at the same time it was louder than anything Harry had ever heard. All he could see appeared to be complete blackness. Yet it wasn't.

If he listened closely it was as if he could hear every noise he'd ever heard in his life. And it was all being meshed together until it was nothing but an unintelligible buzzing in his ear. A buzzing he wasn't entirely sure was really there, or just a figment of his imagination.

If he concentrated he could almost see his whole life playing out before hid eyes, all at once. Just as the sound was doing.

The thing about this was, he couldn't tell if his eyes were actually open.

He tried to wave his hand to see if he could see it or not. But he couldn't, whether it was that he could move or see, he was not sure.

'Am I dead?' Harry wondered idly. 'This isn't so bad.' Harry couldn't see what everyone was so afraid of. This place, this strange oblivion was oddly peaceful, almost soothing.

He simply drifted for who knew how long. It was almost like dreaming.

Then out of the images a few began to become clearer than the rest.

'Sirius.' Harry whispered, gazing upon the memories happily.

He saw them in the kitchen at Grimauld Place during Christmas. In Sirius' old hiding place just outside Hogsmead in Harry's fourth year. Talking on the Hogwarts ground in third year just before Remus transformed.

Then the images pulled together and began to glow, yet they gave off no light that Harry could see.

As the lightless glow faded he saw that all of the other images were gone as well. Instead there was Sirius. Looking as he had in that strange mirror. Sirius smiled at him and stretched out his hand to him.

"Are we dead?" Harry asked curiously.

Shaking his head Sirius just kept smiling and holding out his hand. Harry tried to reach for it but nothing happened. He tried again, concentrating as hard as he could, willing his hand to move. And after a moment it did. Not far, but it was progress!

Trying again he got his hand nearly half way to Sirius's before he felt a strange sensation.

Like could water rushing through him.

The noise in his ear that had, until now, still been buzzing quietly, started to fade. Leaving only one familiar voice.

"Are you finally awake dear boy? Can you open your eyes?"

"God?" Harry asked confused.

Sirius laughed soundlessly at that. The feeling of cold water running through him came once more and Sirius began to fade away as well.

The voice was chuckling softly.

"I don't think I've ever been mistaken for 'God' before." He laughed.

One last time the sensation went through him. Suddenly everything was bright, blindingly so. Finding he could move again he brought his arms up to shield his eyes from the light. After a what seemed like forever, but was probably only a moment or two, Harry's eye adjusted to his suddenly bright surroundings.

He looked around and realized he was in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. Dumbledore was standing next to his bed examining him with a curious look in his pale blue eyes.

"Professor Dumbledore!" He exclaimed, bolting up into a sitting position. "What happened!? How did you find me? How long have I been out?"

Dumbledore's eyebrows raised at this. "Slow down, slow down." He said calmingly, he summoned a chair and sat down next to the bed. "First I think we should start with the question, who are you? What is your name?"


	3. The Boy in the Mirror

Standard Disclaimer: I dun own nothin'! Everything is copyrighted to JKR and WB and a bunch of overpaid publishers. No money's being made. (Though on a side note I wish it were, cuz the bill collectors are rather persistent with there claims that I owe them money, and they wont take 'My Gran told me not to talk to strangers!' as an answer! T_T)

Warnings: Same as most everything I write! Slash, smut, and serious insanity! XD

Author's Note: Sorry for the really long delay, I had a tone of stuff going on. I really don't want to get into what all happened, so we'll just leave it as, 'Life got in the way of things,' yeah? But on another note I'm going to try to update on a regular basis from now on. Not sure if I have a Beta anymore though, I sent this to her ages ago, but she hasn't been online, or posted on her own account. I really hope everything's alright. But as it stands, this chapter is un-Betaed, so please don't be too critical of me and my horrible lack of attention to detail. -_-"

Who was he?

Harry blanched at the old headmaster's question.

"Don't you recognize me sir?" He asked, wide eyed and confused.

Dumbledore stared quizzically at the boy for a moment, looking him up and down.

"No. No, I can honestly say that I do not. Should I?"

"Of course!" Harry nearly shouted, jumping up from the bed. "I've been one of your students for over five years now! You've been helping me train to defeat Voldemort! You even had Snape teach me Occlumency!" By the end of his tirade his chest was heaving and his legs where shaking dangerously.

The older wizards eyebrows shot up toward his hairline and he leaned back in his chair, away from the distraught teen. Harry waited, hoping to see some flicker of recognition in the headmaster's eyes. His hopes were short lived however, as the older man just continued to stare at him in shock and confusion.

Harry's shoulders sagged in dismay. "You really don't remember do you?" He sighed, more to himself than the headmaster.

He slumped back down onto the infirmary bed, placing his head in his hands.

Dumbledore just sat there staring at the distressed young man for a few moments. Going over all that he had said in his mind.

"But he's just a student." Dumbledore muttered absently, deep in thought.

Harry's head snapped up at once upon hearing this.

"What?" He asks sharply, his brow furrowed.

"Hmm… What?" Dumbledore asked absently, still somewhat lost in thought.

"What did you just say?" Harry all but demands. "About someone being 'just a student!" He added a bit impatiently at the headmaster's questioning look.

He needed to know.

Though he had a sinking feeling that he already knew, or at least had a pretty fair idea of what Dumbledore meant.

"You said that Mr. Snape taught you Occlumency?" The older man asked cautiously. Harry nodded slowly, never taking his eyes of the other man. "Severus Snape?" Again Harry nodded. "But my boy, he will only just be starting his sixth year here at Hogwarts this fall."  
Harry's insides seemed to turn to ice, fall out of him from somewhere near his feet, and dissolve into thin air all at once.

"No!" He breathed, panic gripping his chest like a vice.

He shot up from the hospital bed and ran for the door. He wrenched it open and rushed into the empty corridor. He skidded to a halt and looked around himself, trying to think of which way to go. He spun around in place several times, his heart thumping almost painfully against his ribs.

"Where was it?" Harry shrieked, gripping his fingers in hair. "The Great Hall!" He shouted, darting off down the hall.

If he could just get there, then surly his subconscious would know where to go. Then his feet would just carry him back to that room!

That was a logical assumption, right?

And it may well have been, if not for the fact that his legs were currently refusing to carry him anywhere at all. The corridor swayed drastically to the left and shot down, seeming to circle him. The floor rushed up to snatch him from his standing position and viciously slam him down. The impact jarred his head and everything went hazy. The hall way kept running around him, like it was mocking him! Taunting him, as if to say, "Ha ha Harry! You'll never find your way! I wont let you!"

But of course that was completely ridiculous! Castles couldn't talk they weren't alive.

Though sometimes he had to wonder about this one. He wondered if maybe the founders had put a little something extra in when they built this great school.

Harry lay there for sometime, he wasn't sure how long. Just staring at the high ceiling and pondering the possible sentience of Hogwarts, when a blur of silvery white and bright purple came into view above him.

Harry shook his head lightly, to try and clear his vision. The horrible throbbing in the side of his head the movement caused quickly made him regret the action, and he decided against trying it again in the immediate future.

So instead he just lay there for a moment with his eyes shut, breathing deeply. When the terrible throbbing finally dulled to a slight ache Harry opened his eyes to she Dumbledore starring worriedly down at his fallen form. He stayed like that for a moment longer staring pensively at the headmaster's aged face. Thinking about how best to broach the subject that was gnawing at his mind.

He decided that bluntly was most likely for the best.

"Professor? What year is it?"

The old wizard didn't seem as surprised as he probably should be by such a question. Maybe he had already guessed that something like this was the case. He always had seemed to just know things. Or it could be that with age came the innate ability to hide the fact that someone had you unaware. With a small sigh and an inward shrug Harry dismissed the idea. He really was too tired to care about mush of anything anymore. So he just lay there and waited for the older man's answer.

"What year?" Dumbledore asked quietly. The only response he got in return was a single arched brow from the young man. "It is currently the fifteenth of August, nineteen hundred and seventy six." He paused gauging the boy's reaction. He didn't seem to find whatever it was he was looking for though, and he continued with his own question.

"What is the last thing you remember? What was the date?"

Harry was silent for a moment, then with a bit of a grin he replied, "Well sir, as much as I'd love to fascinate you with the amazing story of my life," He paused to laugh quietly at his on little personal joke. "I think I'd prefer to have this conversation, that will no doubt be very long. Somewhere a little more," Harry turned his head this way and that, pretending to observe his surroundings. "Not the ground, yeah?"  
"Oh! Yes! Yes, of course dear boy, of course!" Dumbledore rushed to help Harry to his feet. "Just come along with me back to the infirmary and we shall sort all of this out straight away."

Harry reached up and took the outstretched hand, hefting himself up onto his feet. He waited for a moment to make sure that the corridor wasn't going to try anything funny again. When there was no swaying or otherwise out of place movement from the castle Harry deemed it safe to walk back down the way he'd come.

They walked in silence, Dumbledore staying close by Harry's side, should the youth collapse again. Harry just stared thoughtfully ahead, trying to think of what his next course of action should be. How was he going to get back to his own time? Briefly he thought of asking the headmaster if he had a spare time-turner he could use, but dismissed it just as quickly. He wasn't too sure that a normal time-turner could handle such a big job. And Harry was quite sure that if he ever set foot in the department of mysteries again, it would be too soon.

As he was pondering something brown kept bobbing in and out of the left side of his peripheral vision. He swatted it away, and kept walking.  
Perhaps there was some sort of spell of potion that could help. He would have to ask Dumbledore, or look it up in the library. He thought of various words and phrases he could look up, to find what he was looking for.

And damn it all if that annoying little brown something or other didn't keep fluttering around just at the left side of his head.

Aggravated, Harry reached up, intent on yanking the bloody thing away to see just what it was.

With a small yelp he quickly released it.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, his face paling with realization.  
Dumbledore stopped a few paces ahead and turned to give Harry a quizzical look. He opened his mouth to ask him what was the matter, but Harry hurried past him toward the infirmary, only a few more feet ahead of them.

Harry strode quickly down the length of the long, bed lined room. To the small door at the back, near Madame Pomfrey's office. Harry wrenched the door to the small washroom open. But once the door was open and he was staring inside he froze.

There, straight in front of him stood a boy with dark chocolate brown hair, deep forest green eyes, and a slightly larger frame than his own. Harry stared in shock; the boy stared back. He took a cautious step toward the other boy, and he in turn advanced hesitantly as well. Simultaneously they reached for one another, both of their hand shaking terribly.

Harry's fingertips met the cold, hard surface of the mirror, and his legs gave out beneath him once more.


End file.
